Life after Europe: A bittersweet reality.

After ten glorious weeks of binge eating, power napping and cheek kissing, I now find myself overwhelmed with exhaustion and shockingly content with routine. I started work just four days after my feet hit the Georgia clay, and I come home most afternoons to lie down with a pillow under my lower back, dangling four limbs over the armrests of a loveseat, sipping Pedialyte in attempts to recover from the havoc I put by body through these past two and a half months. My wallet is filled with three Croatian Kune, a bit of denim lint and a plethora of beach sand that piled into the corners of my change purse each time a “Mojito Man” approached me on the foreign shores (Much like a peanut man at a Braves game, only these fellas offer refreshing Rum cocktails and often a tan six-pack). In simpler terms, I’m tired and penniless; meaning, I’ll be parking my rear in a swiveling desk chair for a spell as I work to replace every well-spent dollar from my summer excursions.

But fear not, I will not leave my loyal followers in a world of monotony. I intend to continue adventuring around America, and you are more than welcome to continue living through me on US soil until I can make my way to another continent. I’ll be in Portland, Oregon in September where I have all intentions of welcoming my gluttonous alter ego back into my life; just long enough to binge eat my way through one of America’s most esteemed food capitals. I’ll be spending some time in Atlanta, Nashville, and Pigeon Forge this month, and Savannah is always on my agenda.

As I met countless nomads from all corners of the world, I’m eager to explore the south and pose as a pseudo guide to many of you, unfamiliar with the beautiful lands south of the Mason Dixon line. As I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, my heart breaks to know so many tourists fly to America and skip over my beloved Dixie. My hope is to not only show you the gorgeous cities, hidden towns, beaches and marsh, but to prove why I see the Southeast as the deep-fried, slow-talking heart of America.

In the meantime, I’ll be thumbing through the ruffled pages of my journal to recount the miscellaneous happenings of my life overseas, and perhaps, I’ll entertain you a few more times with a couple of tales I left out while I was strapped to a pack.

Unfortunately, as I have nestled myself back into a land of work and reality, my posts will inevitably become less frequent and obviously less exotic. But whether or not you choose to follow me periodically through my mini-tours through the States, I would like to take thirty more seconds of your time to say, THANK YOU!!

Thank you for following me through Europe, thank you for encouraging me along the way. Thank you to everyone I met, everyone who fed me, housed me and played some role in the greatest adventure of my young adult life. And most importantly, thank you for believing in me every cobblestone step of the way.

One thought on “Life after Europe: A bittersweet reality.

  1. I shall always follow you, once you learned to crawl, then walk, I have never stopped chasing after you! I think some of your first adventures began with dance competition, then art, and 4-H trips~~it has always been fun! This summer you have given me many mini vacations and I am so glad you took the first of many summer adventures. Keep me entertained, I may be your momma, but I’m also your most faithful fan… on my child and please keep writing and I’ll keep reading.

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